


when i was drowning

by KingLear



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Drabble, Drug Abuse, Gen, Ice Skating, Kent Angst, Kent-centric, M/M, Possibly Unrequited Love, Quidditch, This was in my drive from a year ago
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-04
Updated: 2017-11-04
Packaged: 2019-01-29 09:09:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12627690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KingLear/pseuds/KingLear
Summary: Kent muses on a future past Hogwarts.





	when i was drowning

**Author's Note:**

> this was in my drive and honestly i didn't know what to do with it except just post it.

The Zimmerman lake was glowing with the sparkling ice that would be thickly layered until the dawning end of the winter the next year, the rose bushes of different colours maintained perfectly in bloom with a constant spelling of preservation every month. 

It was grand and beautiful as usual but he couldn’t ignore the usual feeling of inferiority that he always felt whenever the Zimmermans would invite him over for the holidays, his mother reluctantly letting him go until Christmas eve with a kiss to the head.

Kent snapped the skate on his left leg and then shifted over to do the right, smoky puff of iced air smoking and disappearing through his chapped lips. It was five am and the ass-crack of dawn and Kent didn’t really think that anyone would be awake - well, not anyone human at least, shuddering as he remembered the grotesque appearance of the house elves and how unbearably submissive they were, as if without a mind of their own.

Zimms wouldn’t notice he was gone, the boy had his posh inherited mannerisms and all, yeah, but he slept like an absolute log, dead to the world until he’d gotten his full eight hours and especially after he’d taken the stupid potions and muggle pills that he thought that Kent didn’t see, but he did in fact see and felt helpless to say anything against. (Memories of an outstretched unmoving palm, unprescribed medical potions and muggle pills spilled nearby, the wretched smell of vomit and bile, the foaming of the mouth, eight years old.) 

And Kent himself had not really slept at all, kept awake by the thought of the future and all its sticky sickening opportunities. (Away from his best friends, away from the protective walls of Hogwarts, would that also mean away from Zimmerman?)

So, yeah, he was safe. 

He stood up and carefully walked to the slippery ice, heel, toe, heel, toe, stepping on the ice as if coming home for the first time in a long while. 

At first he took short strides, the sound of the sharp sides of the skates kissing the ice was soothing to the scruples that scoured within his turning stomach whilst he thought about the dreaded upcoming NEWTs, Owls and the whole lot. Would he even be able to procure a space in one of those international Quidditch teams? He knew that he was pretty good, he’d been scouted by teams far and wide since he’d began playing in the second year but what if- what if he wasn’t good enough?

He glided through the ice, leaping and turning as his thoughts took a drastic turn for the worse. 

(Funerals, faked insincere apologies from people he’d never seen before in his life, whispered gossip behind obvious hands, suicide, fitted tuxes doled out from their small insurance, eight years old)

He’d applied for chances in the Cannons, Puddlemere, Holyheads and even the All-Stars team from over in America but he honestly didn’t think that he would be able to be accepted nevertheless go if he had the chance or the opportunity. The only reason he’d even considered it a possibility was because of, because, it was really only just -- (Dusty gold trophies, Player of the Hour emblem ‘98 long faded, magical photographs of his father staring at him with apology that he couldn’t bare to look at even now, six years old.)

He wasn’t sure if he would be able to leave everyone behind; they were one of the main reasons that he’d remained so optimistic and brave through the years.

(You’ve built your entire world around Zimmerman, what are you going to do when he falls in love? When he leaves? You’ll be left crying and choking on your sad excuse of an existence. Pathetic.)

He violently spun until he felt his breath struggle to leave his lungs, as he felt tears pricking his ears and sliding down his face that felt too warm. He cleared his throat as white noise buzzed in his ears and he glided through the lake, mind hovering to nothing and everything. 

I’m okay. I’m okay. I’m okay. I’m okay. 

Taking in a big gulp of air, Kent glided to a stop, rolling gently by as he came to a finish, the cold air filling his lungs.

Turned to the sky, blowing out more cold air from his mouth.

The colour of it was one of the prettiest that he’d ever known.


End file.
